Harry Potter Plot-Bunnies
by Jakespeed207
Summary: Originally "Harry Potter Oneshots", I had to change it because I never did post any. They were all plot-bunnies. Multiple different pairings. Also some smut later.
1. Magical Heartbreak, Part I

**This is a oneshot that came to me from thinking two thoughts. The first was, of course, "What would happen if Harry had been holding back his feelings for Hermione since fourth year, but hit his limit around the time Ron and Hermione made out on the way to the ROR in the Battle of Hogwarts?" The second thought was, "How many magical diseases are there in the Wizarding World?" After listening to one specific song, this came to mind. There will be a part II that will close the situation up, but so far, here it is. **

**In this case, Voldemort gives the one-hour reprieve earlier than in the book, so Harry has not yet seen the memories of Snape, who is still alive.**

**Song that came to mind is by Daddy Yankee, called "Llamada de Emergencia". If you know Spanish, give it a listen if you haven't already.**

* * *

"Madam Pomfrey!"

The loud yell startled everyone inside the destroyed Great Hall. As one, the survivors of the first assault on Hogwarts turned to the source of the yell and saw Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley running into the Hall, and behind them, the floating, writhing form of Harry Potter.

"What's the matter? What's happened?" Pomfrey said in a no-funny-business tone. This slight reprieve from the Death Eater assault that Voldemort had granted the Hogwarts defenders was filled with tension and grief, as families were now allowed to mourn the dead temporarily, and those who weren't dead yet had poor Pomfrey running back and forth continuously.

"I... I don't know," Hermione admitted, bringing Harry to the ground in front of her and releasing the body bind she had kept him in, at which point Harry curled himself into a ball and grabbed at his chest, clawing at it as if his lungs were burning. His mouth was open and contorted, meaning that if it weren't for the silencing spell on him, he'd be screaming loud enough to wake the oldest forgotten gods. "We were headed to the Room of Requirement-,"

"Where?" Poppy asked, already waving her wand over the seventeen-year-old, her face slowly becoming paler.

"It's a magical room on the seventh floor that becomes whatever the user wishes for, like chamber pots if you really needed to go," Hermione explained hurriedly, wincing a little at the description she used. Most of the survivors had already gathered around them. "Anyways, we were headed there because Harry explained that one of the key objects to defeating Voldemort was in there, but on the fifth floor, where Ron and I met up with him, he suddenly collapsed and started doing this!" She pointed at the convulsing Harry, fear in her face. "Madam, please, what's the matter with him?!"

She had barely noticed the fact that Ron had left her side, more preoccupied with Harry's health than anything else. He hadn't come in contact with anything that should have caused him to react like that.

Poppy finally stopped her examination of Harry and studied him with a critical eye for a moment before summoning a Dreamless Sleep Potion from her supplies and coaxing it down Harry's throat. It took a few moments, but eventually, Harry calmed down and entered a fitful rest, his face still contorted in pain. Absently, Hermione cancelled the silencing spell, and watched with trepidation as Pomfrey took off her spectacles and rubbed her eyes (whether in tiredness or frustration, Hermione couldn't tell) muttering something along the lines of, "why would this happen now?"

"Madam Pomfrey, _please_, tell me what's wrong," Hermione pleaded with the matron, the other Hogwarts defenders sharing the same plea with their eyes.

Poppy finally looked up and asked an open question, although she was looking directly at Hermione. "Have you ever heard the phrase 'dying from heartbreak'?"

Many of the students around the women, most of them pureblood, gasped in shock, while the rest, Hermione included, only stared at the woman in confusion.

"Madam Pomfrey, you think Harry is dying of heartbreak?" Hermione asked in a disbelieving tone.

"I don't think so, miss Granger. I know so," the matron replied sternly, showing that she was not joking in the slightest. "While dying of depression due to heartbreak is a rare occurrence in the muggle world, it is prevalent and much more fatal for wizards and witches."

"You must be kidding me," Hermione said.

"I assure you, I am not. Mr Potter... Harry's..." Poppy's eyes teared up slightly as she looked at the fitfully resting boy she had treated for six years. "He's truly dying of heartbreak, and by my estimates... He only has about an hour before it... claims his life."

Gasps rang out around her, the loudest coming from Hermione.

"No... no, that can't be! Why now?! Why would it happen to him now?! And how does it even happen?"

The matron sighed as she explained. "_Cor contritum morbus_, as we call it, is a rare but fatal disease that could strike anyone. It happens whenever the person in question forms an extreme emotional attachment to another living person, either magical or muggle, even if they do not realise it. When something happens to the one they have attached themselves to, say, for example, they are betrayed by him or her, or their feelings are unrequited, the pain of loss, denial, or betrayal can be strong enough to turn their own magic against them, attacking their own body. As I said, it's rare, but when it strikes, it is most definitely fatal."

Hermione slumped to the floor after the explanation, staring at the contorted face of her best friend. After all they had gone through in their time, the thing that would do him in was _heartbreak_?

"As to why the curse became active now, I cannot say. By my estimates, he has had it for some time already, but managed to keep it in check somewhat. That only seemed to worsen the curse, however, and whatever caused him to let it attack him must have been something akin to the 'last straw' for him." Taking a breath, Poppy looked at Harry with wet eyes. She had treated a fair number of patients with a similar disease, and almost every single one died some time after they had acquired it, though none as quickly as Harry.

"Is... Is there a way to cure him?" Hermione asked meekly, grabbing Harry's hand and squeezing it.

Poppy nodded, noticing as one who has been a healer for a long time would how Harry's face relaxed, just slightly, at the contact with Hermione. "There is, but it is extremely difficult, especially in this situation."

"How?!" Hermione asked desperately.

"The only way to cure it is for the one that caused the heartbreak to push his or her magic towards Harry. This can only work, however, if the person who Harry is in love with reciprocates those feelings. It can be familial, friendly, or romantic love, but it has to be reciprocated, else we run the risk of accelerating Harry's death. And no, miss Granger," Poppy was quick to say, noticing Hermione open her mouth to ask a question, "No one other than the person responsible for the heartbreak can cure him. And unfortunately, we have no idea who is the person that caused it. The only one that could tell us is Harry, and he is in no condition to do so."

"Oh, Harry..." Hermione moaned, holding on to his hand tightly. "Who is it that's hurt you so much?"

Harry, of course, didn't respond. Trying fruitlessly to keep her head from the thoughts of her best friend's death, Hermione looked around and tried to find Ron, locating him some yards away with his family. Squeezing Harry's hand once, she stood and made her way over to him, noticing halfway there that they were actually mourning Fred.

Tears welled up in her eyes at the thought of the fun-loving Weasley twin, but she continued towards her probably-boyfriend and put a hand on his shoulder. He didn't respond.

"Ron?" She tried, moving forward and hugging his side. "I'm so sorry..."

Together, Ron and Hermione silently mourned his brother, watching with wet eyes as Molly wailed and hugged her son's body.

Some minutes later, it was Ron who broke the silence between the two. "How's... Harry?"

Hermione wasn't prepared for the onslaught of emotions that would come from that simple question, but she finally focused on the news she had received earlier and her crying doubled. "Not well. Have you ever heard of _cor contritum morbus_?"

Ron stiffened at the mention of the curse, leading Hermione to believe that he did indeed knew. "But... I thought that was just a myth... a children's myth..."

Hermione sighed and laid her head on Ron's shoulder. "Apparently not. Madam Pomfrey says Harry's had it for a while now, and it only now triggered. He's bad. Really bad, Ron. He only... only had a-an hour t-to live when w-w-we brought him in..." Hermione's crying began anew, making it hard for her to finish.

Ron's face became even more grief-stricken at the news, and he looked back towards where Harry was laying down, surrounded by his friends and comrades.

"I've already lost Fred..." He moaned. "I can't lose one of my best friends too..."

"I know, Ron," Hermione said into his shoulder, her voice thick with emotion. "I feel the same. But what can we do? It's clear something's been hurting Harry emotionally for a while, enough to cause him... this. And without knowing who his feelings are for, there's no way to heal him..."

To her surprise, Ron actually became thoughtful at that piece of information, but if he was thinking anything, he didn't voice it.

The Hogwarts defenders remained so for a long time, many keeping track of time. Time seemed to fly, and in what seemed to be only a few minutes, Hermione was aware of someone shouting loudly that they only had five minutes until Voldemort's hourly reprieve ended and he would attack again.

Everyone stood with bated breath, waiting to see what would happen. The minutes counted down, the seconds ticked away...

And the hour came with a rather strong greeting.

Almost as soon as the second hand marked the start of a new hour, a loud, pain-filled scream rent the tense air, making many in the Great Hall startle. Hermione, Ron, and Poppy were the first to lock onto the origin of the sound, the former two because they had been looking that way periodically, and the latter because she had put wards around the area that alerted her of any trouble.

Harry's eyes had suddenly snapped open, and a second later, he began screaming in pain, his muscles cramping as he clawed at his chest and gripped the sheet he was lying on with a death grip. His screams unnerved everyone. They were filled with pain, anger, sadness, and a million other emotions, which only increased as time went on.

"Harry!" Hermione and Ron yelled together, running towards their best friend. Everyone was still in shock, so they were able to reach him safely unperturbed. Hermione immediately tried to grip his hand as she normally did, but was violently rebuffed when Harry's hand jerked away, nearly throwing her onto him.

"Harry! Please, fight it! You can fight it!" Hermione cried in desperation, trying to reach Harry but finding herself held back. She looked back and noticed Ron holding onto her arm, looking at her with a morose expression. "Ron, let me go! Harry needs my help!"

Ron merely shook his head and pulled her to him, hugging her and keeping her there. Hermione tried to protest, but knew that there was nothing she could do, only watch as her best friend was ripped apart by the disease that had latched onto his magic. Behind them, Molly was once again wailing at the inevitable death of a boy she'd come to know as a son, while Arthur merely held her, his face wet with a large amount of tears.

As Harry's screams reached a crescendo, a bright light suddenly materialised over his body like an aura, shining brighter and brighter until it nearly blinded people. A darker light appeared over his scar, twisting and turning like a snake in pain. As the light almost became unbearable, the dark energy erupted from Harry and formed a large funnel above him, whereupon an inhuman shriek rang out in the Great Hall. Many of the younger defenders screamed in fear, but thankfully, the shriek didn't last very long, and the dark cloud dissipated into thin air.

Harry's screams brought everyone's eyes back down to the shining man, whose back was now arched and whose hands were tight enough to draw blood from his palms. His eyes suddenly snapped open once again, this time glowing with the same ethereal light that his body had, before suddenly, the bright aura around him shattered as if it were made of glass, his eyes closed, and his body fell limply onto the blanket.

Silence reigned. The darkness that had been held at bay by the light emanating from Harry covered them all once again.

Hermione, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, slid out of Ron's embrace and shuffled over to Harry's limp form. No one tried to stop her. She knelt down at his side, looking at his now calm face, and placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it a little. "Harry?" She said, in a tone of voice that had many looking away in sadness. She sounded lost, like a small child trying to talk to a deceased parent. Her shaking became slightly more frantic. "Harry, please, wake up. Harry… Come on, Harry. We need you. _I _need you. Please, Harry! Please, wake up!"

The bushy-haired Gryffindor was now shaking Harry very hard, trying to wake him up. In desperation, she looked back and locked eyes with Madam Pomfrey, who was crying just as hard. As much for her sake as for the girl's, Poppy pulled out her wand and swished it over Harry's body. Nothing happened, and Poppy's voice made everyone gasp.

"He's gone."

Hermione's eyes widened as she turned back to Harry's body. She couldn't come to grasp with it. How could this happen? Her Harry was strong, humble, kind… how could someone hurt him so much that they'd cause him to die?!

Without any other thought left, she promptly threw herself onto Harry and did the only thing left inside her: she cried. She cried for her best friend, for his terrible life, for all he had to endure in his short life. She cried and cried, and soon many others joined her, kneeling by the seventeen-year-old and crying just as hard. Hermione could barely notice Luna, Ginny, Molly, Ron, George, Neville, Katie, Angelina, Alicia, and many, many others kneeling by her and crying. How could they not? Their saviour, their Golden Boy, but most importantly, their friend, was now… gone.


	2. Ron Didn't Go Alone

**I intentionally left this open ended. Don't know if it's for a story later on or a second chapter, or maybe just an idea for someone else, but yeah. If anyone wants to use this nugget as an idea, feel free to ask.**

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

"What about you?"

The brusque question confused Harry for a moment, until he realised it wasn't directed at him, but at the young woman who had raised up the _Protego _shield between him and Ron when they were about to duke it out.

Hermione looked in confusion at Ron's sudden question. "What _about _me?"

Ron's eyes narrowed as he looked at Hermione. "Are you staying, or coming?"

Harry's eyes widened at Ron's ultimatum, punctuated almost perfectly by a clap of thunder. He too turned to Hermione, watching as she stared at Ron with surprise.

Hermione opened her mouth to fervently tell Ron that she was going to stay with Harry, but several stray thought stopped the sentence cold. She couldn't decide for a moment. While yes, she wanted to stay and help Harry destroy the Horcruxes, she also had to admit that she could see where Ron was coming from, in a way. They were three barely-legal teenagers, thrown to the wilderness, with only a far-reaching goal in mind but no detailed way to actually achieve it. She could hear a part of her mind telling her to stay with Harry, to help him, but another part of her warred with it, telling her that they should head somewhere safer and plan from there, not from this dreary place in the middle of the woods with next to no food. She couldn't quite tell, but the latter part didn't exactly sound like her, although it was indeed tempting.

"Well?" Ron asked impatiently.

Hermione looked between the two, noticing Harry's apprehension and Ron's anger. Could she do it? Would she abandon Harry?

Harry's eyes widened when Hermione closed hers for a second and sighed before swishing her wand and dispelling the shield. With cautious steps, she walked closer to Ron, noticing that his eyes became softer and that his mouth turned into a smile when she placed her hand in his.

"Hermione…" Harry whispered, his mind shattered at the thought that not only would Ron leave, but now it seemed his other best friend would as well.

Hermione turned her head to look at Harry, her mind split into a war. On one end, a voice was telling her that she was throwing away something precious, something that couldn't be fixed easily, not to mention all of the months of planning she had done were practically being thrown out the window. On the other end, another voice was telling her that doing things this way was not the way to go, and that they were far too underprepared for what they were trying to do. That they needed a safe house, and that with Ron, they might find it.

"Harry…" Hermione whispered, making him focus on her. "Come with us. We can find some other way to work this out. We're too underprepared for this task, Harry. Please, come with us."

She could feel Ron's questioning gaze on her, but she didn't want to leave without at least trying.

Harry merely shook his head, falling to his knees and looking down morosely. Finally, after about a second, he spoke, his voice dull and devoid of life. "I see… I can't believe… I mean, Ron… but Hermione…" He looked up as he mentioned her name, and their eyes met. But while hers were filled with hope, his quickly narrowed, filled with an incredible rage.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, visibly frightened.

"You… were always the one by my side. Always helping me… but now, at this crucial point, you decide to just turn tail and leave?!" Harry nearly yelled.

Hermione flinched at Harry's tone, but said nothing, merely looking at him with pleading, wet eyes, as the rain outside continued to pound the tent's roof.

Harry couldn't hold her stare, couldn't see the hope in those eyes. He turned away and closed his eyes, missing the look of hurt that Hermione adopted.

"… Go," Harry finally said, waving his arm in a dismissive manner, although his voice cracked. "Go, and leave. Be with him. It's obvious who you chose, and I suppose, with what's been going on with you two behind my back, I shouldn't be surprised."

"Harry, it's not like that," Hermione tried to tell him, but was stopped cold when he turned back to her and glared at her, raising his wand in a threatening manner. What gave her the most pause, and hurt her the most, was the look in Harry's eyes, which were now unabashedly dripping tears.

"Go! I'll try to do what I've been trying to do this whole time: leave and do this without you two! Get the hell out of here!"

In all honestly, it hurt Harry to tell her that, and the look of fear and hurt that crossed her face was not one he would have ever wanted to cause her, but she had clearly made her choice, and he wouldn't continue to dwell on it… he hoped.

Hermione, now filled with a sense of dread, began to step backwards slowly, passing Ron, who was standing by the side of the entrance and looking between the two of them, and exiting the tent. The downpour outside began to quickly soak her clothes, but she didn't care, only having eyes for the young man who was now staring at her.

"Leave the Horcrux," Harry said in an emotionless tone to Ron, who looked at him for a moment before nodding and taking off the locket, dropping it on one of the beds.

"She's right, you know," Ron stated as he began to walk out. "We were wholly underprepared, and you knew that. Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

Harry closed his eyes, wiping away the tear tracks that clung to his cheeks. When he opened them again, he fixed Ron with a determined stare and said, "I'm already too deeply into this. I can't back out now."

Ron nodded, a flash of what appeared to be respect passing by his eyes. "Then… good luck."

And with that he stepped out, walking up to Hermione and standing next to her. The girl appeared to be a statue, simply frozen in front of the open flaps of the tent. He began to gently pull her away, and she hardly resisted.

Hermione only had eyes for the man they were leaving inside the tent, who was looking back at her with an almost unreadable expression. It was only moments before she and Ron disapparated that she saw and understood what he was feeling.

For in that moment, Harry mouthed something at her and with a flick of his wand, closed the flaps of the tent, the look of pure betrayal in his eyes the last thing she saw in the woods before she and Ron disappeared with a loud crack.


	3. A Change in Third Year

"Harry! Help me!" Ron cried as he was dragged away by the dark dog by his leg, his grip on Scabbers shaky.

"Ron, hold on!" Harry yelled, Hermione running right behind him. He jumped forward, trying to grab onto his hand, but missed by an inch.

With scared yells, Ron was dragged by the Grim through a hole on the ground, at the very base of...

"The Whomping Willow," Hermione whispered as she looked up to the twisting tree. Noticing that Harry was still lying on the ground, eyes wide and staring at the hole where Ron had been dragged, she quickly grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him up. "Harry, come on, move back!"

Startled, Harry looked around and recognised the very tree that had wrecked Mr Weasley's car the previous year. He quickly stepped back, Hermione alongside him, and together, they looked up at the twisting and turning tree.

"We need to get past it," Harry stated.

"But how?" Hermione asked, alternating her eyes between the tree and the young man at her side.

Frowning, Harry tried to take a few steps forward, but hesitated when the Willow reared one of its large branches back. He stepped back cautiously, and it relaxed.

"… We'll have to wing it," Harry stated with determination.

Hermione glanced at her best friend, worry clear in her eyes. "Are you sure, Harry?"

"We don't have another option," Harry said as he looked at her. "By the time we get someone to help, Ron could be dead or worse. We have to do this now."

Without another word, Harry turned back to the Willow and studied the branches. Squaring his shoulders, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and ran for the hole. Immediately, the Willow attacked, and Harry pushed Hermione to the side so they wouldn't be in a large branch's path. Pulling her back up, he continued running, dragging his best friend with him, but was unable to get far enough before a smaller branch swiped at him horizontally and caught him on his chest, sending him flying back with a grunt of pain.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, looking back at him. He clenched his teeth and stood back up, pushing her forward as well. They dodged the next two, but a small branch caught Harry on the stomach, making him double over in pain. At the same time, another branch swiped at Hermione's stomach, but she managed to grab on to it. It pulled her up to the air, amidst screams, and moved all around, trying to shake her off, but Hermione held on with all her strength, keeping an eye on where the branch was taking her. As soon as she passed close enough to him, she reached out and grabbed Harry's shirt, pulling him along with her on the wild ride she was on.

"Whoa!" Harry yelled out as he was pulled into the air suddenly. Looking up, he saw Hermione glance back at him and motion to the hole with her head (as her other hand was holding on to the branch as tightly as she could), and as soon as she was close enough, she released him, sending him flying directly into the hole.

With a startled yelp, Harry fell through the hole and slid inside. His feet hit the ground suddenly, and he was flipped around rather ungracefully, ending up on his back on the floor, with his feet facing the hole.

"Oh… damn…" Harry moaned, his eyes closed.

A small scream was all the warning he had before the air was knocked out of his lungs by Hermione suddenly falling through the hole as well and landing directly on top of him.

"Ow…" Harry groaned, trying to get as much air back into his lungs as the body lying on top of him would allow.

"Sorry, Harry," Hermione apologised, pushing her upper body off him.

"It's alright, Hermio… ne…" Harry began, but was stopped by the sight granted to him when he opened his eyes. Hermione's face was just above his own, ringed by her bushy hair, and he was struck dumb at the sight of his best friend, who was staring back at him with equal fervour. Up to this point, Harry had hardly recognised Hermione's growth, but he couldn't deny now that she had indeed grown into a beautiful young lady. The small cuts on her face from their run against the Willow didn't detract from the image at all. Instead, it seemed to enhance the power and determination that she held inside.

"H… Harry…?" He just barely processed Hermione's mention of his name, so focused as he was on her face, but he was just able to respond.

"Hermione… you look…"

"What?" Hermione asked absently, staring into his eyes.

"… Beautiful…" Harry finished.

He was slightly surprised when he saw the girl blush hotly at his words, but his mind reminded him of her bookworm nature, and he understood that many people didn't see past it. He suspected that her parents would have told her the same, but it was different than being told so by a friend. Determination coursed through him at the thought. How could anyone not see the wonderful girl that was Hermione Granger? He was determined to show her just how beautiful she was.

He leaned forward slowly, not wanting to startle her suddenly, and was rewarded when he saw her eyes glance down to his lips before she looked at him again and moved forward as well. A small amount of anxiousness burst forth inside him, but he squashed it and instead closed the rest of the distance, connecting his lips with hers.

For a first kiss, it was chaste and inexperienced, but both teens quickly lost themselves in it and began to deepen it. Harry, for his part, couldn't believe how right and wonderful this felt, and he was determined to make it last as long as he could. He could feel Hermione's hands snake around his neck and pull him closer, and he reciprocated by wrapping his arms around her waist and tightening his hold. Hermione fit into him perfectly, and he deepened the kiss slightly, emboldened by her response.

It was moments later when they separated, a small trail of saliva still connecting their lips. Harry felt like he was in a haze, and a look into Hermione's eyes showed him that she was about the same.

"That… was… amazing…" Hermione breathed.

"Definitely…" Harry agreed with a grin.

Hermione suddenly blushed and looked down, resting her head on Harry's chest. "Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Do you… I mean…" She fumbled for words for a second before saying hurriedly, "Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

Harry blinked momentarily before he smiled and softly grabbed her chin with his hand, pulling her head up until their eyes met. "Yes, Mione, I do. I think you're absolutely beautiful, and I know that you'll only grow more beautiful with time. Anyone that can't see that is either blind or doesn't truly see you."

Hermione beamed at his answer and hugged him to her. Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he heard her squeal as well.

"Thank you, Harry. You have no idea how that makes me feel," Hermione said emotionally, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

"Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise," Harry assured her, pecking her lips once more. Hermione gladly responded, and after a moment, he broke the kiss and looked into the tunnel. "Don't you think we should be going after Ron now?"

Hermione nodded and stood, Harry standing up alongside her. Holding hands, they began the trek into the tunnel, but neither of them could fully wipe the smiles off their faces. Harry felt a pulse of warmth in his chest, one that he instinctively knew was caused by the girl next to him, and he thought that, with her by his side, the future looked a little brighter.


	4. The Best Man

The sound of a happy door knock snapped Harry Potter out of his regular musings.

Living in Number 12, Grimmauld Place, alongside Kreacher, the now twenty-three year old Harry spent most of his time in the house wallowing in self-pity, unfortunately. After the war, he had immediately moved in here, and was now alone, as Hermione had decided to stay at the Burrow with Ron, and he had never rekindled his relationship with Ron's sister, Ginny, for... reasons.

Well, _a _reason.

Regardless, he had distanced himself from almost everyone since then. Most had tried to stop him, but eventually caved when he refused to mingle for longer than necessary. One person, though, hadn't, and always tried her best to bring him out of his usual funk, usually by surprise visits. That person was none other than Hermione herself. But recently, even she was keeping her distance from him, her visits becoming more infrequent. If he were honest with himself, it hurt less than he had expected, but that might have been because that was actually a semi-good thing.

Considering _she _was the aforementioned reason, both for his relationship issues and for his... wallowing?

The knocking on the door got more insistent as Harry descended the stairs, prompting him to call out, "Just a sec, I'll be right there."

Finally in front of the door, Harry thought momentarily about how glad he was that he and Kreacher had worked together to burn Walburga Black's portrait about a year ago before his brain stopped momentarily.

The very reason for his wallowing troubles, Hermione Granger, was standing at his doorstep, a radiant smile on her face. Harry greedily but surreptitiously drank in the sight of the pale yellow summer dress and flip flops the woman was wearing before he once again focused on her smile, and realised there was something... new there.

"Mione. Good to see you," Harry said politely, still keeping his masked persona up. Truth was, he wanted to distance himself from her as much as possible, as he wanted to keep his attraction to her, and his hurt at her presence, to a minimum.

Yep, Harry had realised his feelings for Hermione were most definitely more than platonic sometime in their fifth year, but unfortunately... his cowardice and low sense of self-worth got in his way, preventing him from outright telling her. He wasn't even able to drop hints, mostly because he was clueless as to how. He was prepared to gather his Gryffindor courage and tell her in his sixth year... but then he'd noticed her interactions with Ron, and their surreptitious glances and jealous attitudes. And then, his noble thoughts reared their head, and as much as it had torn him apart, he had stepped aside... and allowed Ron to court her without any interference.

Hermione was obviously not as shy as Harry, as she only rolled her eyes before stepping forward and engulfing Harry in one of her trademark Hermione hugs. Just the feeling of her body against his, the smell of vanilla and ink in his nose, and Hermione's giggle nearly sent Harry into a faint. As it was, he was barely able to bring his arms around Hermione while his heart beat madly in his chest.

"How are you, Harry?" Hermione asked with a smile, looking him up and down. Harry was only clad in loose boxers and a plain grey shirt, so there wasn't much he could say.

"Same as usual," Harry shrugged, signalling to his state of dress. Glancing around, he asked the pertinent question. "Anything you needed?"

Even with the low lighting, today being a cloudy day, Harry could distinctly notice the flash of hurt that passed across Hermione's eyes, and it tore him up inside. He didn't want to cause her pain. On the contrary, he wanted so desperately to grab her, sweep her into a tight hug, and ensnare her lips with his-_, 'no, stop that thought, Harry! Don't go there!'_

"Actually, yes," Hermione smiled again, pulling out a folded, laminated paper from the satchel he just now realised she was carrying. She handed it to him...

And his heart nearly stopped.

**_You are cordially invited to the wedding of Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, set in the Fifth of June!_**

That was all his brain focused on, as the rest became a blur and he could barely read it anymore due to the shaking of his hands. No... Damnit, why did this have to happen?

"Harry?" Hermione's concerned voice brought him abruptly back to the present. Cripes, he didn't want her to interpret his hand-shaking and fast breathing correctly. He had built too many walls to drop them now!

That, and... He didn't want to give her any grief in such an obviously happy day.

"Mione..." He whispered, mostly to buy himself more time to recover. He plastered the best happy smile he could on his face and looked up at her. "That's great!" He said, almost maniacally if he was honest.

Hermione looked like she wanted to call him out on something, but Harry didn't let her, stepping forward and grabbing her into a hug before spinning her around, much to her squealing simultaneous horror and happiness.

"That's fantastic!" Harry exclaimed, probably laying it on a bit too thick. "I'm so happy for you!"

"While I'm glad you think so, put me down, Harry!" Hermione laughed, slapping his shoulder.

Harry stopped suddenly and immediately dropped her, stepping back and rubbing the nape of his neck bashfully. "Sorry, Mione."

"It's fine, Harry. I'm glad you're that happy," Hermione commented, straightening her dress, "because Ron wants you to be the best man."

Harry froze for a moment. The mental image of watching Hermione getting married was already a heart-wrenching one, but to be literally at the side of the groom, watching it? That almost robbed him of his sanity.

_'Do it for Mione... do it for Mione... do it for Mione...'_

"I... I'll be glad to..." Harry said, his head hung. Damnit, he couldn't keep it all in.

Hermione, it seemed, misinterpreted his demeanour for one of happiness, most likely because she wasn't looking at his eyes. "I hope to see you there, looking good, alright?"

Harry's head snapped up. "You're not coming in?"

Hermione laughed lightly, sending Harry's heart racing. "Oh, no, not today. Still got a few invitations to deliver. It's next week, you know."

Harry gulped but nodded, freezing on the spot when Hermione reached up and kissed his cheek. The spot immediately burned, in a good way.

"Bye, Harry!"

And with that, Harry watched as she almost skipped down to the front gate and stepped out before apparating.

Shaking, Harry turned and stepped back inside, closing the door and leaning on it for a moment before sliding down to his bum and placing his head in his hands, the invitation lying forgotten at his side.

Merlin's saggy bollocks, what the hell had he just agreed to?!

The pop of elfin apparition momentarily distracted him. Kreacher had appeared in front of him, watching him with sad eyes.

"Master Harry, are you alright?"

Harry opened his mouth to tell him the same thing he told everyone: That he was fine. But he couldn't. With their time living together, Kreacher knew him well. The question, Harry was sure, was meant to make Harry think about it.

Finally, he dropped his head back down in his hands and simply shook it morosely. "Just... prepare my training room... with the training module number... forty-two."

Kreacher's eyes lit up in understanding before he bowed and popped away.

Harry remained there, sitting with his back to the door and, as he had been wont to doing, despairing over his failures.

Kreacher reappeared a few moments later, telling him that everything was ready. Harry nodded and said, "Set up the usual potions I use for this occasion. I think I'll need them, now more than ever."

Kreacher nodded and popped away, and with a heavy heart, Harry ascended the steps to his training room.

The room was spacious, with many training mats and dummies, the latter of which could be charmed to attack with varying levels of difficulty. Sunlight streamed in from three windows on each wall, but Harry knew it was simply a charm. This room was more of a small fortress, meant to block any incoming or outgoing magic in order to have some privacy and so that no powerful magical explosion would disrupt the wards of the place.

As soon as Harry entered, seven Death Eater dummies rolled forward, mechanical arms lifting fake wands. Harry lifted his own and carefully watched the dummies, waiting for an attack. As a bloody red spell flew his way, however, he couldn't help but think...

_He watched with wide eyes as the troll approached the almost-catatonic, bushy-haired girl kneeling by the corner. The fear in those eyes spurred him to action. He tried to pull her away from the danger zone as Ron distracted it, but she wouldn't respond. He needed to take out the main target of the girl's fear. Without a second thought, he turned, pumped his legs, and jumped..._

Harry dodged the spell and quickly sent out four disarming spells, three of which were blocked. The fourth sent one of the dummies' wands flying directly towards Harry, but before he could grab it, it was summoned by another dummy, who grabbed and threw it back to its companion. Harry quickly cast a shield and moved, strategically shooting spells at some of the shielded dummies, before catching one by surprise and slicing its head off with a well-timed Sectumsempra. He was forced to jump away as six differently coloured spells converged on his position, rolling for a moment before landing on one knee.

_He walked into the Hospital Wing, alone this time as Ron had decided to go down to dinner. With absent steps, he approached the last bed on one side and sat beside the petrified form of his other best friend, grabbing her upraised hand taking in her frozen surprised expression. He couldn't fathom that this bright, young girl, his best friend, was targeted just because of who her parents were, but, if anything, all this did was further cement his determination to see whatever was causing the attacks to an end. "I swear to you, Hermione," he had said, "that I will not let your petrification be in vain. I will find a way to help you."_

He immediately raised his wand and fired a salvo of blasting curses, not at the dummies, but at the ground in front of them. Shield charms had been thrown up, but the debris had still flown through and struck the dummies, not to mention the loss of balance. Harry took the opportunity to cut one dummy in half with Sectumsempra and capture another with Incarcerous, simultaneously casting a powerful shield around it so none of its buddies were able to free it, something he should have been aware enough to do in his childhood with his mentor's view on killing, a view he no longer shared. Three down, four to go.

_He stared, dumbstruck, at his best friend, the blurred, reversing landscape not even registering in his mind. She had some cuts and bruises on her face, but now, seeing her staring determinedly at the Time Turner wrapped around their necks, he could not deny that he was seeing his friend in a new light. Despite what others said, he was observant, and he was now noticing the changes in his best friend, which, while small, still stunned him. She would grow into an incredibly attractive woman in the future, and, if he was honest, she was already an incredibly attractive young woman now. _

Not wanting to waste time, Harry cast Incendio at the feet of two of the remaining dummies, knowing the spell would be blocked otherwise. Walls of fire sprouted in front of the two, blocking Harry from their line of sight. Using this advantage, Harry began to send a multitude of curses and hexes at the two unblocked dummies, sending them on the defensive. As he dished a cutting curse and a blasting hex by jumping and rolling in mid-air, Harry's eyes came across some of the debris brought up by his earlier blasting hexes, and an idea popped into his head. He moved in front of one of the still-burning walls of fire and Disillusioned himself before transfiguring three of the larger rocks around him into something he had yet to use: twin-mounted gun turrets. While not particularly into the non-magical lifestyle, largely due to his childhood experience in it, Harry had acquired a taste for muggle weaponry and learned a lot about it, the knowledge of which he was applying here. The turrets immediately locked on to the dummies and fired, keeping the two occupied in order to survive. Harry turned to the remaining two...

_Hermione's continued loyalty toward him in his fourth year was one of the happiest memories of his life, and it only served to reinforce his thoughts about the girl. He couldn't tell at that point, but he was attracted to her. Her help and closeness in fifth year only served to drive this point home, and it was only his failed relationship with Cho that finally showed him what he couldn't understand earlier. As much as he didn't want to admit it to Cho, he was indeed infatuated with his best friend. But how to tell her this? He couldn't say. His non-existent experience with dating and love quickly came to him, and despite all his courage, he closed up his feelings. Hermione's later grievous injury in the Ministry would be something that would haunt him for some time to come, but it was what helped him understand something: if Hermione were to... die... in the Ministry, He would be absolutely devastated, not only because he lost his best friend, but his only love interest as well. It was what cemented in his young head his determination to tell Hermione about his feelings the next time he saw her, which would hopefully be sometime before his sixth year started._

Harry banished both walls of flame towards their target, watching as they moved in on the dummies. One of them successfully moved to the side and dodged it, but the other was not so lucky, and the wall of fire caught it and set it ablaze. It moved around frantically for a few short moments, unable to get help as its three comrades were being distracted by Harry and the gun turrets, and soon, it became a pile of soot on the ground. Harry was fighting the remaining three on his own now, as one of the turrets had run out of ammunition and the other had been destroyed. He ducked and weaved, dodging curses left and right, but the exhaustion of the many spells he had been dishing out and his evasive manoeuvres got to him momentarily, and he was hit on his left arm and right leg by a bone breaker curse and jelly-legs jinx, respectively. He cried out in pain at his now broken arm, and fell to his back immediately due to the unresponsive leg.

_Unfortunately, his plans hit a major dent when, as soon as he first saw Ron and Hermione together in the same room, aka when Ron woke him up after his first night at the Burrow. He would be a complete idiot to miss the glances and looks his best friends were sending one another, and as much as it hurt his heart to do so, he stepped back from his once-cemented plans to allow Ron the chance to date Hermione. It wasn't that he wanted to make the decision for her; far from it, as Hermione would wordily kick his arse if he did. But if his best friend wanted to court Hermione, who was he to step in the way? Harry once again didn't know this, but his upbringing was rearing its ugly head, and his lack of self-esteem made it easy for him to come to the decision to step back from the developing attractions of his best friends. When Hermione began to ignore him due to his use of Snape's potion book, he had been more emotionally hurt than ever before, and though none of his friends knew, he had cried himself to sleep more than once due to this. He had almost decided to chuck the book altogether, but decided to use reason and noted that he would need the edited instructions of the Half-Blood Prince, along with the fact that he didn't want to give Ron any reason to think he was ditching something he was so approving for just for Hermione's sake, as that could tip him off to his feeling about her. He had been a happy camper when she had rekindled their friendship, and he had almost hurt Ron himself when he saw how hurt Hermione was because of Ron's relationship with Lavender. But still, he kept his feeling to himself, not giving anything away. His relationship with Ginny had been a pretty happy one, but he couldn't deny that Hermione was in his mind more often than not, and she was one of the reasons he had broken it off with her at Dumbledore's funeral, although he wouldn't tell her that._

Harry moved away from where he was laying, using a banishing charm aimed to the floor to help him avoid a trio of curses aimed his way and wincing as the pain in his broken left arm increased exponentially. While rolling, he summoned to him a pistol he kept nearby for training purposes, released the safety, and opened fire on the dummies, keeping his wand in his mouth and moving it sometimes to fire off a spell. It was tough, but he managed to shoot one of the dummies directly on the forehead, bringing it down. He released the gun when it clicked uselessly, signalling it was out of ammo, and once again palmed his wand, casting as strong a shield as he could manage. As curses rained down on the shield, Harry did his best to reverse the jinx on his right leg, managing to lift the jinx but leaving his leg half asleep. He accepted it so far and stood shakily, raising his shield with him while at the same time keeping his painfully-throbbing left arm as still as possible.

_Bill and Fleur's wedding only served to increase the thought in his mind that Hermione was a beautiful young woman, as he nearly had a heart attack when he saw her in that dress. His dance with her was one of the happiest and, at the same time, more hurtful memories he had, as it killed him inside to have her so close and yet be unable to truly be close to her, at least in the way he wanted. Their time in Grimmauld Place after the wedding were pretty obscure to him, who barely remembered anything besides his fight with Remus and finding his mother's letter to Sirius. He did remember, however, seeing his sleeping best friends' hands nearly together on the first night, and it had sent a pang of loneliness and pain through his heart. When Ron had left them, he wanted so badly to tell Hermione what he felt, but once again, he stilled himself, seeing just how distraught this beautiful woman was due to his departure. Instead, he tried his best to comfort her, to cheer her up, having marginal success. Ron's reappearance and Hermione's anger at the young man almost made him reconsider it, but since he mainly hung out with him after his return, he could still see the affection Ron held for Hermione, and he once again pulled himself back. Their glances at each other, their closeness after the Malfoy Manor fiasco, and finally, their kiss in the Battle of Hogwarts all but nearly killed him in despair, but he chose to soldier on, locking away his feelings until they were as buried as a corpse. It was only after the battle that he allowed himself to wallow on them, and the despair and hopelessness that clung to him were what made him become isolated, although if anyone were to ask, he would tell them that he simply wasn't feeling alright due to the many people they lost in the Battle for Hogwarts. _

These last few thoughts are what spurred Harry to finish the battle, and with new determination coursing through him, he aimed his wand at the dummy to his left and fired off a salvo of curses, which were mostly blocked by a shield. His last curse, however, was shot with this in mind, and the dummy's body fell apart in an x formation as the powerful Sectumsempra caught it head on. He turned to the other dummy just in time to dodge the bone breaker sent at his sternum, turning in a practiced manoeuvre before turning his wand to the dummy and releasing his most powerful Reducto. The dummy literally exploded, much like the one they used in the DA had when Ginny hit it with the same curse, sending shrapnel flying towards Harry, who covered his eyes with his good arm. Regardless, he still got several cuts on his arms and bare legs, and he had to stifle a cry of pain when a piece of the dummy hit his broken arm.

He finally uncovered his face, yet his eyes remained closed. The thoughts that had plagued his mind during the battle returned to him full force, which was exactly why he had made this training module, as it was the hardest of all the ones he had made, with the difficulty at its most extreme. He had hoped to drown out his sorrows in the battle, but instead, he had thought about the very woman he had been trying to disconnect from the entire time, and at this point, he was just spent. He fell back to the wall and slid to the ground, not even mindful of his arm as tears fell from his eyes. It was almost pathetic, Harry thought to himself. A twenty-three year old man with a broken arm and several bleeding cuts, crying his eyes out in a destroyed room. But at this point, he couldn't help it. He just couldn't move on from this, no matter what avenue he tried.

**0o0o0o0o0o0**

The week went by unnervingly fast, and in what seemed to be no time at all, Harry found himself standing next to his redhead best friend, crisp dress robes mirroring those of the other men at the altar that was under the large tent behind the reconstructed Burrow. Looking around in wonder, Harry was suddenly startled at the quick pace the week had taken. It all seemed like a blur, from being dragged by Hermione, Molly, and Ginny to find dress robes; to helping Ron with the wedding ring and vows; to helping set up the large tent that contained the reception.

A slow playing of music signalled to Harry that the wedding was starting, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw Hermione enter the tent, her white (and decidedly muggle) wedding dress contrasting with the black tuxedo that her father was wearing as he walked beside her, a smile on his weathered face. While the man couldn't quite condone what his daughter had done to him and his wife (who was sitting on the front row next to Molly Weasley, handkerchief in hand and currently blotting tears), he understood the rushed issue and eventually warmed to Harry and Ron.

Hermione was positively beaming at everyone, and her glowing countenance entranced everyone in the tent, Harry in particular. He watched with a semi-forced smile as his best friend walked up the aisle and was left in front of Ron, who almost immediately took her hands in his. Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw William Granger send him a knowing glance for a second before he went to join his wife.

"Esteemed friends and family," Kingsley Shacklebolt began, taking the role of the would-be priest in muggle instances of marriage, his stance as Minister of Magic giving him the option of doing so. "Today, we have gathered here to witness the union of Ronald Billius Weasley and Hermione Jean Granger, under the magical and non-magical eyes of the world."

Harry's mind once again set his body on autopilot, only responding when necessary and mainly keeping as friendly a smile as he could on his face. It was only after what felt only like moments when he heard Kingsley say, "You may now kiss the bride," and watched as Ron leaned down and captured Hermione's lips, making him close his eyes and momentarily grimace. When he opened his eyes moments later, he was aware that a few of the people gathered were looking at him and not at the kissing, just-married couple. He could see that many were giving him looks of sympathy, and couldn't help but feel his heart warming at those looks, although it didn't last long when the forms of his kissing best friends came back to his attention.

Moments later, and with a few flicks of wands, the chairs and altar disappeared and were replaced by a long, white-covered table, several round tables with many chairs, and a larger dancing floor. The music was mixed well, with both magical and muggle music sounding out of the speakers that Hermione cleverly enchanted with several runes with a _Sonorus_ charm that transmitted the music through the speakers. Harry was, of course, dragged along with the married couple, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to return home and drown his sorrows. It was not to be, and he soon found himself sitting to Arthur Weasley's right.

"Speech, speech, speech!" Harry barely noticed the chant of the gathered crowd until he was lightly elbowed on the side by Arthur. Looking up in surprise, he noticed most people, his best friends included, were looking at him with expectant smiles.

Harry's throat suddenly became dry. What could he possibly say?


	5. The Best Man, Alt Ending

**This happens just after Harry defeats the last training dummy and sits against the wall. **

**0o0o0o0o0o0**

It seemed fate just liked to mess with Harry at times like this, for Harry was interrupted from his musings by a familiar voice calling out his name in a most confused manner.

"Harry?!"

Harry looked up in surprise, his eyes landing on Hermione, who was standing by the now open door and looking at Harry with a great amount of shock.

She had been flabbergasted at the damage the room had contained, what with the burnt floors and walls, broken gun turrets, spent shell casings, destroyed training dummies, and overall dust and debris that clung to the air and littered the floor. But she had even been more shocked at the state Harry was in. He was sitting with his back to a wall, his outfit the same as the one he had greeted her with in the morning. Several bleeding cuts and black bruises covered his legs and arms, one of which Hermione immediately noticed was most definitely broken. But what most unsettled her were Harry's eyes, and the painful sobs she had heard coming from him before he became aware of her presence. And his eyes… by god, his eyes. They were darkened, filled with an emotion she would have been hard pressed to place before, but with so much time spent around Harry, she now knew it was pain. Deep, emotional pain.

"Oh, Harry!" she cried out, running towards him and kneeling by his side, her wand already out. "Why did you do this to yourself?!"

Harry didn't answer, simply looking down, his much longer hair covering his face from her sight. She wouldn't be deterred, however, and simply moved the bangs from his face, showing her his defeated visage.

"Please, Harry," she said in a low, emotional voice, tears already clinging to her eyes. "Please, tell me what's happening with you. Why are you locking yourself away like this? Why do you do this to yourself?"

Harry simply shook his head morosely. "I can't, Hermione."

"Why?" she asked desperately, surprised over the fact that he had called her by her full name instead of the usual shortening she had come to know and love.

"I just can't!" Harry said forcefully, facing away from her and clenching his eyes shut. "I… I promised myself I wouldn't…"

Hermione stared at the man, hurt that he would promise himself this. She knew that whenever he set himself to something, he would do it, and if he would prefer to hurt himself over telling her what it was that was ailing him… it hurt her.

She placed a hand on his good shoulder and spoke to him, the hurt she felt clear in her voice. "Why are you trying to shut yourself out from me?" When he turned and regarded her with blank eyes, she nearly cried. "Why, Harry? We used to be so close, practically family. Why…?"

Harry's eyes had closed when she mentioned the word 'family', and she though it was because he was reminded of the fact that he had none. In truth, Harry was actually hurt that she mentioned it, because as much as he told Ron that she was like a sister to him, he knew he wanted something that he shouldn't want to have with a family member.

Instead, Harry shook his head and attempted to stand, his legs giving out on him almost immediately and sending him back to the floor, where his arm jolted in its place, making him hiss in pain.

"Harry! Here, let me help you," Hermione cried out, immediately going to his other side and throwing his arm around her shoulders. With a grunt from both of them, Harry was standing, although he was leaning heavily on Hermione, who, despite having grown some, still couldn't fully take his weight.

"My room… potions there… for pain and sleep…" Harry muttered. Hermione nodded and helped him get to his room, the main suite of the place, which he and Kreacher had remodelled extensively. As she helped him sit down on his bed, she saw several potions on the bedside table, clearly labelled. What surprised her, though, were the empty potion flasks that were also on the bedside, with the same exact labels. The dots quickly connected in her head.

"Harry…" Hermione started, bringing the remainder of his attention to him. "How… often do you find yourself like this?"

Harry nearly chuckled, but realised that laughing would probably hurt. "You don't want to know."

"Oh, on the contrary," Hermione stated, giving him her patented 'I want answers and I want them _now_' glare, "I would very much like to know."

Harry withered under the glare, knowing that he could never deny her. He muttered something that was unintelligible to Hermione.

"What was that?"

"I said almost once a day, alright?" Harry said in an exasperated tone. He became thoughtful after a moment, not seeing the look of utter shock that passed by Hermione's face. "Although… before, it was much worse. Nowadays, I've gotten better, so I get no more than a broken arm or leg at most."

"Harry!" Hermione yelled out, drawing his attention back to her. "How the hell could you stand this almost daily?!"

Harry shrugged. "When you've got the help of Kreacher and a few potions, it's not difficult. At least, not now. It was a pain back then."

Hermione simply stared at him, mouth half-open in surprise. Finally, she closed her mouth and eyes and counted to ten in her mind. When her eyes opened again, Harry was sighing in relief as he set his arm and the potions he had quickly taken repaired the damage.

"Harry James Potter..." Hermione said, in a tone of voice Harry had grown to be wary of in his life. "You and I need to have a long talk."

Harry merely looked at her, completely silent. His continued staring made her squirm uncomfortably, but it wasn't until she was about to start asking him questions that he shook his head, drank his last potion in one go, and leaned back on the backboard of the bed, simply saying, "No."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

Harry stared at her again, this time with some incredulity. "I mean exactly that, Hermione. I'm not going to talk to you about this. Like I said earlier, I promised myself that I wouldn't."

"And why did you promise yourself that? Is it something about me that you don't want me to know?" Hermione asked him, and was rewarded with his eyes widening slightly. "Ah, so it is."

Harry clamped his mouth shut and looked away, an almost childish gesture.

"Harry..." Hermione said dangerously. "If you know something about me, don't I at least have the right to know?"

"Not this," Harry shook his head. "Definitely not this."

"And why not?"

"Because you just don't want to know, Hermione."

"What, so it's not 'Mione' anymore?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at her in surprise, a smirk crossing his face. "I didn't know you liked that nickname so much."

Hermione blushed, but didn't look away, simply saying, "Tell me, Harry."

"No."

"Harry..."

"No, Hermione, no matter how much you ask, I'm not telling you."

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Would you at least tell me _why _you can't, or don't want to, tell me?"

Harry regarded her for a few moments before sighing and crossing his arms. "Because... at this point, it would just bring more trouble than it's worth."

Hermione was understandably confused at his answer. "That's one of the vaguest statements I've ever heard you say, Harry."

"Doesn't take away the truth of it."

"If you say so, but... you're taking away my input in this, Harry. Shouldn't I at least be allowed to make the decision on whether I'll let it throw my life into chaos?"

"That's the thing," Harry muttered. "I'm more than sure that it will, and I don't want to put you through that, especially considering what's coming up." He waved his wedding invitation around.

Looking at it for a moment, Hermione glanced at Harry and asked, "So it has something to do with my love life?"

Harry sighed once again and dropped the invitation on the bed.

"I'll take that as a yes," Hermione said. She thought about it for a moment, then looked at Harry and asked, "So... you're hurting yourself nearly every day... Because of my love life?"

The way she phrased the question made Harry chuckle, a chuckle that turned into full-blown laughter in a moment. Hermione watched with some concern as Harry laughed at seemingly nothing, her mind racing as it normally did through several possibilities this conversation was leading into.

"Harry... do you fancy me?"

Harry's laughter stopped almost immediately, and he stared at Hermione with surprise. In his eyes, Hermione could see several emotions flash by, before he closed them and sighed.

"... No, Mione..." Harry said, although it seemed to take a lot of effort for him to say that. "I don't fancy you. Like I've told you and Ron several times, you're more of a sister to me than anything else."

Hermione, of course, didn't believe him for a moment this time, not just because of the conversation, but because of his tone of voice. "Uh-huh... and how many sisters do you have, Harry?"

Harry looked at her strangely for a moment before he understood what she meant. Shaking his head, he turned away from her, lest she see how worked up he was actually becoming this entire time. "Besides, what does it matter? You're getting married soon..."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said mournfully, pulling him into a hug, which surprised him. "Instead of talking to me, or anyone, about this, you decided to keep it bottled up and take it out on yourself? Why?"

Harry couldn't understand why she was so accepting of his feelings this way. He was sure that she would recoil, that she would make some claims about him being like a brother to her. But then he realised... she was an only child as well. His brain then processed her question.

"I... I didn't want you to get wind of it, so... I kept it to myself."

"For how long?"

Harry didn't answer immediately.

"Harry?"

"Since... fourth year, I think."

She suddenly pulled his head up to look into his eyes with her own, surprised pair. "You've had feelings for me that long?"

Harry couldn't hold her stare. It was tearing him up inside once again, being so close to this wonderful woman and yet, being unable to approach her how he wanted. So he pulled back, out of her embrace, and flopped back on the bed, eyes closed.

"Harry..." He opened his eyes in surprise, seeing that Hermione was leaning over him, a concerned look in her eyes. "Please... don't shut yourself away from me... please... talk to me."

Harry sighed once again and sat up, leaning against his legs.

"Since you already know, ask away. I know you have some questions."


	6. Aftermath of Departure

**Before this one starts, I have to answer two reviews.**

**Guest: I did not specifically make her a bad character, as you so eloquently put it. Don't know if you had noticed, but I made Hermione purposefully more susceptible to her easier route out. Why? Because, as you might remember, they're passing a Horcrux between themselves periodically. As shown with Ron, that ****_has _****to leave more than just some crabbiness behind in a person. Thus, while Hermione doesn't realise it, the reason she agreed so easily to Ron's idea was the Horcrux's effect on her.**

**mmat: I stated in the description that ****_nearly all _****are Harry/Hermione. Writing the same relationship over and over, no matter how many twists and turns you put on it, gets boring pretty fast. To me, it's a more interesting concept to think of Harry would react to the relationship between Ron and Hermione if he believed he was too late in telling her of his feelings, as is the case with ****The Best Man****.**

**0o0o0o0o0o0**

Groaning as he wakes, Harry keeps his eyes shut and tries to not think of what had happened the previous day. Try as he might, however, the image of Ron's departure is still fresh in his mind, and it makes him not want to get up at all. Unfortunately, he knows that, as much as he wishes to stay in bed and not move for the rest of the day, there are two things that he needs to do: continue searching for Horcruxes and for a way to destroy the one he already has; and make sure Hermione is alright.

The second point comes to him faster than he expects when the rest of his senses come back to him and he becomes aware that he can hear breathing rather close to him and that his arms are around something that most definitely isn't his pillow, with his right hand holding onto something rather soft.

He freezes in surprise, not sure of what the hell is going on, only listening to the soft breathing of the figure that he is currently spooning. Out of reflex, the tensing of his body also closes his hands, thus lightly squeezing the soft object he is holding.

And, unfortunately for Harry's already frayed nerves, he recognises the voice that lightly moans from the squeeze, despite never having heard her actually moan like that.

Immediately, he tries to move away and disentangle himself from Hermione, but his squeeze of her breast had also brought her back to awareness, and she is quick enough to grab his arm and hold him in place when he begins to slowly back away.

"H-Hermione?" Harry asks, nervousness and shock clear in his tone of voice.

The bushy-haired young woman doesn't respond for a moment, but when she does, Harry is nearly heartbroken to hear the crack in, and the hoarseness of, her voice.

"Harry… please… just stay with me…"

Still severely confused, not to mention trying to will his erection away, Harry eventually obliges and lays back down, spooning Hermione once again.

"What… are you doing on my cot, Mione?" Harry asks, more calm now that he knows he isn't going to face the ever-dreaded female rage.

"I… I couldn't sleep."

Harry's expression softens when she says this, and he moves his arms slightly so they encircle her waist, where, without further thought, he pulls her closer and lays his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the smell of her hair. Despite not always being happy with any kind of contact, he knows that this is what his best friend needs: something to hold onto, or, more appropriately, someone to hold on to her and to reassure her. He can feel Hermione's tension ebb away at his actions, and she wiggles closer to Harry while releasing a relieved sigh. Harry smiles at the latter action. Did she really think he would push her away?

Never in a million years.

"Harry?" He hears Hermione ask timidly.

"Yeah, Mione?"

Hermione remains silent for a few seconds, yet Harry waits patiently. He knows that sometimes his best friend needed to get her thoughts on track before asking a question or raising a statement, something he adored about her.

"You… No, no, it's stupid…"

"Mione, come on, you can tell me."

"Well…"

"Am I going to have to coax it out of you?" Harry says, trying to put as much good humour into his words as he can while moving his hands to her nearly bare stomach, her nightshirt having ridden up while they slept. Hermione tenses when she feels his fingers slightly dig into her tummy, but relaxes when she understands what he is trying to accomplish and smiles slightly before her face becomes remorseful.

"You wouldn't… leave me… right?"

Harry remains silent at the question, eyes boring into the back of Hermione's head in shock.

He feels Hermione tense up again, seemingly taking his silence as confirmation, yet he remains calm.

Instead, in a bold move, he moves his head down and lightly kisses the back of her neck, just below her ear. Hermione relaxes and moans slightly at the action, so he continues and kisses he collarbone as well while rubbing her stomach lightly.

Finally, moments later, he pulls away and turns her around. When she does, Harry gazes intensely into her eyes, hardly noticing the redness in them or the large tear tracks that adorn her cheeks.

"Hermione Jane Granger, you listen to me," Harry begins with conviction. "I will never, ever, _ever_, leave you. I would sooner tear out my own heart than do so. You have stood by me loyally this whole time, and I am not one to abandon any friend, much less such an important person like you. Come hell or high water, you will always find me by your side."

Hermione stares back at him, her eyes slowly brightening at his declaration. A smile adorns her face, one that he hadn't seen in a long time. A true smile.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione whispers, her voice thick with emotion. She looks down suddenly and shakes her head. "I'm sorry for doubting you. I know it's silly…"

She is unable to finish when suddenly Harry reaches out and wraps his arms around her midsection once again, pulling her close to him. In reflex, she moves her arms up and wraps them around Harry's neck tenderly while at the same time laying her forehead on his chest, closing her eyes and enjoying this closeness to Harry.

"It's fine, Mione," Harry whispers in her ear. "I understand why you'd feel that way, and I promise, I will always be here for you, on my life and magic."

Hermione smiles wider at his declaration and hums brightly, drawing a chuckle from Harry.

"What will we do if… _he _comes back?" Hermione asks, unwilling to mention Ron's name.

Harry looks down at the top of her head and ponders that question. If Ron actually came back, what _would _they do? Shun him? Welcome him back? Would they ever have the same kind of friendship and camaraderie they had before his desertion?

He then realises that, even if Ron _did _come back, he can never bring himself to trust in the youngest Weasley male again. His mind brings him images of how Ron deserted him at the beginning of the Triwizard Tournament. He remembers how Ron had looked murderous when he had returned to the dormitory; how he had declared that Harry was a cheat, despite not getting all the facts and completely forgetting that Harry had never lied to him before, had no reason to hide something from him, and most importantly, didn't want to take part in the tournament; how he had ignored and even ridiculed him at times; how he had increased his insults of Hermione during that time; and then, after the first task, how he had come with the reasoning that he believed Harry would have to be "barking mad to put his name in the goblet", which, in hindsight, Harry found to be a dumb reason to come back to his good graces. _No one _knew how difficult the tasks would be, so either way, Ron truly had no reason to come back and apologise.

No, Harry could never bring himself to trust Ronald Weasley again. He had trusted him once, and given him another chance. As noble as he was, even he had his limits, and Ron had just crossed that limit.

But there was another that had also been there for Harry. One that he knew had never, and would never, leave him. One who had stood by him nearly his entire Hogwarts life, and who he would go to the ends of the Earth and back just to protect her, to be there for her…

… To love her.

It hit him like a ton of bricks, the epiphany. But was he right, though? He didn't want to make Hermione uncomfortable, but he knew that this was something he needed to get out of his chest. He thought it was too soon, and at the same time, he wanted to hold her close to himself like this forever. He wasn't sure what had been going on between her and Ron, but he also knew that he had walked out on them, and was most likely not coming back.

What could he do?

"Harry?" He heard Hermione call his name distantly, and looked down to the sight of Hermione looking up at him with puzzled chocolate-brown eyes. God, she looked beautiful.

That's when he realised she was still waiting for an answer.

"I… I don't know about you, Hermione," Harry said haltingly, not wanting to anger or sadden her, "But I… I can't… I can never trust Ron again. You know how I am with friendships. Ron has already left me once… and I gave him a second chance after that. He broke that yesterday, and I don't think I can find it in me to trust him again."

Hermione remained silent for a while after Harry's declaration, and Harry slowly became more afraid of her reaction. While he might not be able to trust Ron again, he didn't know what Hermione thought. Would she want him back?

Suddenly, Hermione giggled, a sound that startled him out of his musing. He looked down at her in surprise when the giggle became full-blown laughter.

"Oh… that's great!"

"What?" Harry asked, still confused as all hell.

"I-I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione chuckled. "I don't think I should be laughing but… I'm glad we share the same point of view."

Harry heaved a sigh of relief at her response.

"Honestly, I thought he was beginning to grow up," Hermione huffed good-naturedly. "Guess not, but honestly, I feel the same. I don't think I could have continued to deal with the git."

That gave Harry pause.

"Wait, so… why _did _you deal with him?" Harry asked, honestly curious. "One thing I remember about you two most is that you're polar opposites and you argue quite often. So…?"

"Oh, honestly, Harry," Hermione sighed with a smile. "I only did so because he was your friend, and I didn't want to see you losing someone you obviously cared about."

"Wait, so you only put up with him… for me?" Harry asked faintly.

"Of course. Otherwise, I don't think I'd have ever been able to deal with Ronald," Hermione said.

Harry's mouth opened in a perfect O for a few moments before he closed it and gazed at her intensely. "Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?" He asked out of the blue.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at his question. "Not recently, but yes."

Harry smiled and pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her cheek and whispering into her ear, "Well, Hermione Granger, I can honestly say that there is no one I could appreciate more than you right now."

He felt Hermione's arms tighten around his neck and a small sob escape her mouth. "I… Thanks, Harry."

"And honestly…" Harry continued, drawing on every little bit of his Gryffindor courage, "I can also honestly say that… there is no one else I could… love more than you either."

He felt Hermione tense up in his arms suddenly, and shut his eyes, keeping himself composed. He would hold out hope… until she answered.

She pulled back suddenly, placing a hand on his cheek, which convinced him to open his eyes. When he did, he was almost startled to see how close she was, as he was staring directly into her eyes.

"You… love me?" she asked, and Harry just barely heard a small amount of both curiosity and desperation bubbling in her question.

He swallowed, but nodded. "I do. I don't fully know what love _is_, but if anybody asked me who I love in my life, the first person I would point to would always be you."

Hermione looked down momentarily. When she looked back up, she seemed to be more guarded. "But… do you love me as a good friend, or… as a girlfriend?"

Harry stared at her for a moment, processing the question, before an answer came to him, and he said it immediately. "If we're going by that scale, I love you as a wife."

Hermione's eyes widened at the same time his own did. He couldn't believe he just said that!

But thankfully, Hermione didn't seem to be offended or disgusted. In fact, she seemed pensive. He waited patiently for her to finish her thoughts, and was rewarded for the patience.

"I… I never thought…"

"Never thought what?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. "I never thought… you'd see me that way."

Harry stared at her with surprise of his own. "Never see you that way? Are you kidding, Mione? You're absolutely gorgeous, and that's not even mentioning your attitude, your mind, your mannerisms, and just… everything about you!"

Hermione stared at him in shock after his declaration. In fact, now that he thought about it, there was continuous shock going back and forth this morning.

Hermione suddenly ducked her head, her face being suffused with redness, which he managed to catch before she looked down. Harry was having none of that, however, and simply placed his hand on her chin and lifted her face up to meet his.

"Hermione," Harry began, seeing her eyes lock onto his own. "Don't you ever let anyone tell you that you're nothing. No matter what Ron, Malfoy, Snape, or anyone else might say, you are a damn great witch, a bloody awesome woman, and an absolutely amazing friend."

Hermione smiled widely at him, her eyes filling with tears, and she suddenly jumped forward and grabbed him in a tight hug. Harry was only too happy to reciprocate it.

"Thank you, Harry," she said emotionally, burrowing herself into his shoulder. Harry happily hugged her back.

A few moments later, Hermione pulled back and looked Harry in the eyes. "So… where does this leave us?"

Harry tilted his head to the side. "How do you mean?"

"Are we… dating? As in, boyfriend and girlfriend?" Hermione asked tentatively. Harry could just detect a bit of fear in the question.

Looking at her for a few moments, Harry processed the question. With a small smile, instead of answering her verbally, he suddenly moved forward and captured her lips in a soft yet determined kiss. He could feel Hermione tense up momentarily, but after a second, she moaned appreciatively and began to reciprocate the kiss. Harry gripped her waist tightly and pulled her even closer, until they appeared to be more one person than two.

After a few minutes of continuous snogging, Harry was the one to break the kiss, moving back and releasing Hermione's lips. Opening his eyes, he was amused to see Hermione with her eyes closed in bliss, mouth still half open and a small trail of saliva connecting their lips. He was pleased to see her open her glazed eyes and look at him with something akin to lust.

"I would absolutely love to have you as my girlfriend, Hermione," Harry said with conviction, placing a kiss on her nose, which made the bushy-haired girl giggle.

"And I would be very happy to have you as a boyfriend, Harry," Hermione responded with a semi-husky whisper, kissing him for all he was worth, an action he was most willing to reciprocate.


	7. Harry Loses His Cool

**I apologize if this or any of my one shots/plot bunnies are a little/too open ended. Some of these are just ideas, so if I/anyone wants to use them as a starting point for a fanfic, it's ****_there_****. **

**This one happens during fourth year, two weeks before the third task. **

**If Ron and Hermione's argument seems forced, I apologize for that as well. I can't write arguments all that well, I think.**

**0o0o0o0o0o0**

Hermione Granger was officially worried.

For the last 36 hours, since the beginning of the previous day, her friend Harry had been oddly quiet. In fact, he seemed withdrawn and pensive. At least, more than usual. As they normally stayed in the common room after classes and hung out with Ron, she had been able to observe him.

The entire time they had been sitting, Harry had remained quiet, with his arms crossed and his eyes staring into space. She would have said that he was either daydreaming or Confunded, but the frown on his face and the many times his eyes would glance at either herself or Ron made her realise that he was thinking of both of them in his ruminations.

His behaviour was the same today as well. Thankfully, it was Thursday so they had a light class schedule, and the trio found themselves side by side on a sofa in front of the fire. Despite the fact that it was already June, some parts of the castle remained oddly chilly, but Hermione just put that off as a side effect of the many magical sources in the castle.

It seemed Ron had also noticed Harry's odd quietness, and he decided to help him. Unfortunately, he also chose to do so in a way that annoyed Hermione.

"Hey, mate!" Ron said with a grin at the young man between him and Hermione. "You've been pretty quiet lately. Something on your mind?"

Harry didn't respond. For all intents and purposes, he didn't even acknowledge Ron. His gaze remained glued to the fire, not giving any indication of hearing the redhead.

"Want to play a game of chess?" Ron asked hopefully.

No response.

"How about flying a bit? Weather's pretty good!"

Still no answer.

"Well, how about-?"

"Enough, Ronald," Hermione scolded. "Harry already has enough on his plate with the third task coming up in two weeks. He needs to practice, not goof off." Ignoring Ron's splutters, she turned to Harry and asked, "You _have _been studying, right? Just because you don't have exams doesn't mean you should slack off!"

Bewilderingly, he didn't answer Hermione either. It was as if he was completely gone.

"Ah, he doesn't need to worry about that!" Ron crowed. "He's got this in the bag!"

"Ron, don't be so obtuse," Hermione scolded him. "We have no idea what he will face besides Blast-Ended Skrewts."

"And we've already learned how to take care of _those_," Ron said with a shudder. "What could possibly be worse than those buggers?"

"Many, many things," Hermione reminded him. "Besides, just because you're such a slacker doesn't mean that Harry should be one, especially now."

"Oh, please, Herms," Ron said, waving a hand dismissively, "You're acting like it's the end of the world."

"It doesn't hurt to be prepared, and I've told you time and again to not call me that!" Hermione exclaimed.

"But why?" Ron asked, oblivious.

"Gah!" Hermione yelled, throwing her hands in the air. "You're impossible."

"And you need to learn to relax," Ron said, nodding sagely.

"I'll relax once Harry exits that maze unscathed," Hermione said through gritted teeth. "Although, I don't think I'll be able to even then, what with having to take care of you as if I were your nanny."

Ron's face gained a red hue. "I don't need a nanny!"

"Says the _boy_ that can't even do his homework without copying mine," Hermione said, putting major emphasis on 'boy'.

The redness on Ron's face became more noticeable. "Yeah, well, what else are you useful for? Certainly not for having fun!"

"Oh, so I'm only useful when I'm there for you to copy off me?" Hermione hissed dangerously.

"Hey, if you're already done, why can't you help me?" Ron asked, still rather oblivious to the danger in front of him.

"That's not helping, that's just blatant plagiarism, and it certainly won't help you in the real world. That is, if you ever graduate."

"I'll graduate, no problem!"

"I'd like to see that happen without me being there, so do rethink your words."

"I don't need you to help me graduate!"

"Then you should start doing your homework on your own and stop pestering me!"

"Why? Do you need more time to _hang out _with _Vicky_?" Ron said in a disgusted tone.

"I don't see how that's any of your business, and it's _Viktor_," Hermione ground out.

"Psh, whatever."

"You're just jealous because he's a much better _man _than you are."

"I am not!"

"Right…"

"Grr… Come on, Harry, let's get out of here. The company's getting on my nerves."

"I'm sure Harry can make his own decisions without _your _input, Ronald."

"I don't see why he'd want to hang out with _you_."

"Oh, is that so?"

"You'd probably make him memorize the library for fun!"

"At least I'd be helping him survive, instead of doing nothing productive!"

"Quidditch is productive!"

"Not in this instance!"

"And knowing how many hairs Dumbledore has is?"

"And what exactly were you doing to help him survive at the beginning of the year? Oh, right, nothing, because you abandoned Harry!"

"I… er… I came back though! And Harry's already forgiven me!"

"Has he? I never heard him say it!"

"Are you just jealous that he's having fun for once?!"

"That's **ENOUGH!**"

Ron and Hermione sprung apart, literally. They had stood up during their argument, and they were pushed apart by what appeared to be a wave of magic. Each fell onto a chair that was luckily behind them, but when they looked up, the angry and annoyed visage of Harry was staring back at them.

"Harry, mate…" Ron began, but was immediately silenced by a glare from Harry. The fourteen-year-old Boy-Who-Lived looked back and forth between his two friends, frowning all the while, before his thoughts coalesced into words.

"I'm only going to go through this once. I. Am. Done. I'm tired of hearing the both of you argue constantly. I'm tired of listening to you fighting over the pettiest of things. I'm tired. Done. Finished. So, with that in mind, I'm going to set the both of you straight, starting with you, Ron."

"Me?! What did I do?!" Ron exclaimed.

"It's not what you do, it's what you don't. Actually, it's both! Ron, you have absolutely no sense of tact! You're acting like this is still first year! We're not nine, ten, or eleven years old anymore! You can't get away with insulting people and goofing off and expect people to just take it in stride. Too much of something is bad, even if it's looked at as a good thing! Having fun is fine, but goddamn, it's not the only thing in the world! We're in school! We're supposed to be _studying_, in order to become successful _adults_, something that you need to grasp now instead of a week before seventh year ends!"

By this point, the entire Common Room was watching the spectacle with shocked eyes (some people had actually come down from their dorm rooms to see what all the yelling was about). Harry turned his eyes next to Hermione, who was leaning back and looking up at him in fear.

"And now, you, Hermione! In all honesty, you're the complete opposite to Ron. Just like goofing off twenty-four-seven is bad, so is focusing only and absolutely on reading, studying, and everything in between! I'm not asking you to change completely, that wouldn't make you Hermione anymore, but for the sake of Morgana's saggy tits, lighten up! Life isn't all books and spells. There's so many other things to see, explore, and experience that don't come from written words!"

Looking directly at the fire (and thus at the space between the two), Harry addressed his third point. "Finally, the two of you are seriously going to have to figure your shite out, because I refuse to continue to be a mediator between you two! Almost every time we're together, you find something to argue about, and it's pissing me off! We're **not **a 'Golden Trio'. We're more of a 'Golden Angle', because I'm the only point connecting you two, and the line connecting you is like a bloody flickering lightbulb that refuses to die, yet no one changes it! Well, I'm done." Glaring at the two of them again, he said, "I need someone to help me live, not just survive, but those two things go hand in hand. The way things are going, neither of you are going to manage that. I'm not asking you to drop everything for me, but until you two manage to get your respective shites together and either learn to be friends or simply stop being friends indefinitely, I'm going to stay away from both of you. I already have enough stress as it is."

With a simple **Accio**, Harry summoned his Firebolt, the Marauder's Map, and his Invisibility Cloak, then left the Common Room in a huff, leaving behind a completely shocked Gryffindor Tower.


	8. Laying Out the Facts

As the doors of the Gryffindor common room opened and Harry stepped inside, Hermione immediately stood from the couch in front of the fire and, completely ignoring her fourth year homework, embraced him in a panicky hug.

"Harry! Where have you been?! You disappeared all day without so much as a note!"

To her surprise, Harry didn't return her hug, as he normally did lately now that she had managed to get him used to affectionate human contact. It took three plus years, but still.

Pulling back without releasing him, she looked into his face and finally noticed why: he looked terrible. His hair was more unkempt than normal, there were bags under his eyes, and his eyes were slightly bloodshot.

"Harry...? What's the matter?"

Harry sighed and looked down for a moment before reaching up and grabbing her right hand from where it rested on his left shoulder with his left hand, surprising her due to the initiated contact. The touch made her feel a small tingle, though she wasn't sure why.

"I need to talk to you," Harry said simply, his voice slightly hoarse. "There's something I... want to show you." He turned away slightly to lead her out of the portrait hole, and his eyes fell on Ron, who was sitting on a chair and glancing at them. "Ron, you might want to come for this too."

"Whatever for?" Ron asked, irritation lacing his voice.

"Because it might grant you a new point of view on me and show you why you shouldn't want my life," Harry said morosely. His tone of voice, more than anything, made Ron comply, and he stood from the chair and approached them.

"Lead the way, I guess," Ron waved his hand.

Harry nodded and, still holding Hermione's hand, moved outside the common room, with Ron trailing some steps behind the pair.

"Harry, where are we going?" Hermione asked, trying to gauge her best friend.

"Dumbledore's office," Harry responded simply.

Hermione refrained from making any comments until they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office. It seemed to have been expecting them, as it stepped aside and allowed them to climb undisturbed. With three knocks, Harry announced their presence and they were allowed into the office by Dumbledore.

"Ah, you're back, Harry," Dumbledore commented as the trio entered, his hands joined in front of his mouth. On his desk was a wide stone basin, filled with glowing liquid.

"I am, headmaster," Harry nodded, waving to his companions to take a seat, yet remaining standing.

"What's this all about, Harry, Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione got the ball rolling, concern evident on her face. Ron said nothing, merely looking between Harry and Dumbledore.

Dumbledore looked at Harry with a sympathetic eye. "Are you sure of this course of action, Harry?"

"I am, headmaster," Harry nodded back resolutely. "With what's happening in two days, I need to tell them. Though I can't say the same fully for Ronald, Hermione at least deserves to know."

Dumbledore sighed and nodded, sitting back and letting Harry take the stage. It was at that point that Hermione noticed how old Dumbledore looked, not to mention the expression of regret and pain that crossed his face.

"Ron, Mione," Harry began, "first of all, you need to know just what is going to happen for the first task of the Tournament in order to understand why I'm doing this." With a deep breath, Harry bluntly said, "We, the champions, are going to face dragons for the first task."

It took a moment for the pair to process what Harry said, but when they did, their eyes widened simultaneously, and Hermione's mouth opened in shock.

"D-d-dragons?!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry nodded. "Yep. That's why Hagrid wanted to see me last night. There are four dragons being maintained in the Forbidden Forest, one for each of the champions."

Hermione stared at him with undiluted shock and fear before turning to Dumbledore. "Are you out of your mind?!" She yelled at the old man, surprising them all. "Harry's fourteen! As great a wizard he is, he can't take on a fully grown dragon! A team of experienced handlers is normally needed to subdue one!"

"I am aware of this, miss Granger," Dumbledore said wearily, "but unfortunately, there's nothing I can do. The first task of every Triwizard Tournament has always been to face a magical creature. This time, it was dragons."

Hermione's fearful eyes turned back to Harry, who, she was appalled to see, seemed to be resigned to his fate.

"I've gone over every plan I can conceive," Harry began, as if sensing her gaze. "But... as you know, no plan survives contact with the enemy. Thus, I came to professor Dumbledore last night after I came back from seeing the dragons and... well..."

"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked, surprisingly concerned. Hermione could understand it though. Whatever this was, it seemed to weigh heavily on Harry.

"... I told him everything that... happened to me at the Dursley's," Harry finished with a huff.

Hermione looked at him with wide eyes. That subject was taboo between the trio-now-duo, and all that Ron and Hermione knew of it was that the Dursley family was one of the worst, if not the worst, bigots about magic, and that Harry had suffered greatly under them, yet still managed to become the great young man in front of them. That he had actually laid out all the facts to anybody, even the headmaster, was an incredibly unprecedented event.

"He then showed me this," Harry continued, pointing at the basin on the desk. "This is a Pensieve."

"Really?" Hermione interrupted, looking at the Pensieve with surprise and not a small amount of intrigue.

"I take it you know what a Pensieve is, miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked with a small smile.

"Yes!" Hermione responded excitedly. "It's magical device that allows the user to deposit memories inside and then enter the memory to watch it in a third-person point of view! I didn't know there were any in existence, much less in Hogwarts!"

"Well, Pensieves can't simply be bought at any store, you know," Dumbledore explained, "but many Ancient and Noble Houses, such as the Black and Longbottom families, have them. We have one at Hogwarts for the headmaster, and it includes the memories of all the previous ones."

Hermione gazed at the Pensieve with an intrigued air before the pieces connected in her head and she turned back to Harry. "Do you mean to say... your memories of your time with the Dursleys... are in there?"

Harry nodded. "Every single one."

"And you want us to see them?" Ron asked, looking at the Pensieve.

"Yeah. I can understand if you don't want to, but, as much as you don't want to hear this, Mione, I might not survive my encounter with the dragon. I've already gone through them with Professor Dumbledore, and I wished to show you as well. We've been friends for the last three years, and while your rejection hurt, Ron, I _can _understand your reasoning, and hope this changes your mind."

Ron nodded at Harry, his eyes slightly watery.

"Furthermore... I simply hope this doesn't deteriorate our friendship," Harry finished, sorting on an empty chair nearby and running his hand though his hair. A hand grabbing his own stopped him, and he looked up, only to come face to face with Hermione, who was looking into his eyes when determination.

"Unless there is a memory in there of you ruthlessly murdering innocents, _nothing _will ever destroy our friendship, Harry James Potter," Hermione determinedly told him. "You and I almost lost it last year, and I refuse to ever lose you that way again."

Moved by her declaration, Harry stood and wrapped her in his arms, something that made her squeak for a moment before she hugged him back with equal fervour.

"Thank you, Mione," Harry said, his voice thick with emotion, as he lightly kissed the top of her head. "Thank you so much. And I'm so, so sorry for the way I treated you last year. You didn't deserve that, and I only now realise how much of a bell-end I was to you."

Hermione laughed at his last sentence, but hugged him back tighter and responded with, "You're forgiven, Harry, and I have to ask for forgiveness as well, for going behind your back like that and not talking to you first as I should have."

"Water under the bridge, as they say," Harry commented before releasing her and waving at the Pensieve.

With a nod, Hermione turned to it and stared at it for a moment before turning back to Harry with a sheepish expression. "Um… how do I use this?"

Harry and Dumbledore chuckled. The latter answered her. "Miss Granger, just press your face to the liquid. You'll immediately be drawn into the memory."

Hermione nodded and started to lean in, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she saw Ron standing next to her, facing the liquid determinedly.

"You're not going in there without me," he said simply.

Hermione nodded and leaned in, immediately being sucked into the Pensieve. Ron followed mere moments later.


	9. Overwhelming Pressure

**Two things to keep in mind for this one:**

**1) Voldemort was not sighted in the Ministry; therefore, the Ministry's slander campaign continues onto 6th year. No Umbridge though (hate the cow/toad; assume she was cooked by centaurs)**

**2) Ron's jealousy from second year did not change, so he and Harry have not been friends for more than a year. No Ron in the Department of Mysteries battle.**

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Hermione looked around the Great Hall surreptitiously. As much as she didn't feel like admitting it, she was worried. The reason was a decidedly open spot near the end of the Gryffindor table, where a raven-haired sixteen-year-old normally sat.

She couldn't truly call him her best friend anymore, not since she had blown up and separated herself from him due to the "Half-Blood Prince's" book. That had actually been put to the test this very morning, which incidentally had been the last time Hermione had seen Harry the entire day, which only added to her worry, as she shared a number of classes with him.

**_Flashback._**

_In a corridor near the Gryffindor common room, two people approached each other from opposite sides, although one definitely didn't want to see the other. _

_Nose held in the air stubbornly, Hermione pointedly looked away as she passed by Harry, who was coming in her direction. Normally, she'd hear him try and talk to her, and she would simply ignore him or give him a one-word answer and continue on her way. The thoughts that she was his last true friend left after Ronald never 'forgave' him due to the Triwizard Tournament fiasco and that he must be missing her terribly; that he must be feeling an incredible amount of pressure due to the continued slander of his person by the Ministry; these were squashed under her pride and her stubbornness about the defiled book that Harry was using for Potions class. _

_To her utter shock, Harry didn't talk to her or even acknowledge her presence as she passed. This actually made her pause and look at him out of the corner of her eye, whereupon she noticed the devastated look of his face and how his shoulders were slumped, as if he carried the weight of the world (which he just might). The image of such a defeated Harry almost cracked the stubborn persona she projected._

_Almost._

_But by the time she actually wanted to say his name, he had turned the corner and disappeared from her view, leaving her alone in the corridor._

**_Flashback end._**

Now, her worry was reaching very high levels. Harry had _never _missed a meal in the Great Hall. Was he in trouble? Could he be in danger?

Her questions would be answered soon enough, as dinnertime in the Great Hall was interrupted by the least expected reason.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Moaning Myrtle yelled as she phased right through the Great Hall doors and flew directly to the head table, drawing the eye of everybody in the hall.

"Miss Myrtle," Dumbledore greeted, noticing the panicked demeanour of the ghost. "Is something the matter?"

"Harry! It's Harry, professor! He- I mean, I saw him- He is…"

"Miss Myrtle, calm yourself," Dumbledore ordered, projecting his aura to calm the ghost, with some results. "Now, please explain coherently."

Myrtle nodded and squared her shoulders. "This morning, I was hanging around my usual toilet when I heard somebody come into the bathroom. I was naturally curious, as nobody goes in there, and when I looked, I saw Harry come in. I was so shaken by how he looked. His eyes were bloodshot and his entire faced looked like he had been crying recently. He completely ignored me, and instead, he opened the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets and went inside!"

There were several gasps around the hall, the highest coming from Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. The Weasleys because they were intimate with some of the place and were flummoxed as to why Harry would go there, and Hermione because she had heard from Harry as to what happened in the Chamber and couldn't understand why Harry would go there.

"Were you able to ascertain anything else?" Dumbledore asked.

"Err, yeah. He whispering continuously, but I didn't catch most of it. I do remember that he was whispering several names though. Yours was one, professor, along with professor Snape's and professor McGonagall's names. He said something about Hagrid too, and then I heard him mention some of his classmates." Myrtle turned to the catatonically-silent hall and asked aloud, "Who are Ginny, Luna, Neville, Ron, and Hermione?"

The five people mentioned stood up at once, Ron a bit grudgingly.

"Oh, hey, I remember you two," Myrtle said, pointing at Ron and Hermione. "Which one of you is Hermione?"

With a small tick on her head, the girl in question waved.

"He was saying your name the most. He kept on mentioning it like a mantra, but I didn't hear what he was saying along with it."

"Was he?" Hermione said to herself in a low tone.

"Very well, Miss Myrtle," Dumbledore said, "I shall make sure to talk to Harry and ask him about this incident."

Myrtle suddenly shrieked in realisation and turned back to the old man. "I remember now why I was here! You won't be able to question him, professor, because he hasn't come out of there since this morning! He's still down there!"

"What could Harry want with the Chamber of Secrets?" Ginny asked aloud. No one could answer her.

"Do you think he may have taken another exit?" Professor McGonagall asked the ghost.

"No. I already asked several elves to see if they could find him, but they haven't seen hide nor hair of him. I asked them to check the Chamber, but apparently they can't apparate in there, so I can only assume he's still there."

Dumbledore nodded at the ghost and stood. "Then there's only one thing to do. FAWKES!"

Mere moments after the headmaster's call, his trusty phoenix flamed into the room, landing on the table and looking at the man inquisitively, while at the same time awing the students that had yet to see the marvellous bird.

"Fawkes," Dumbledore instructed, "Harry Potter is currently in the Chamber of Secrets. Do you remember where it is?" When Fawkes bobbed his head, Dumbledore continued. "I need you to go in there and bring him back."

Without further ado, the phoenix nodded and flamed away. To everyone's surprise, it came back seconds later empty-clawed, but frantically squawking at Dumbledore.

"You can't flame him here?" Dumbledore asked in a worry-filled tone, aware of what that could mean. When Fawkes nodded agitatedly, Dumbledore nodded back and reached for his tail feathers. As soon as he touched them, they disappeared.

To the worry of the five-some that had been called out by Myrtle, and of those that truly liked the young man and were on his side, Dumbledore and Fawkes were gone for a much longer time than anyone expected. When they returned, though, it was with a most unwelcome surprise.

The first thing that denoted something was wrong was when Fawkes flamed back into the room alone, circling the head table once before landing on the headmaster's chair. He emitted a mournful wail which made every pair of eyes in the room water, even the ones of the ghosts.

The second was when a small wave of magic flowed by the Great Hall, making most people shudder as it passed. The odd thing the teachers noted was that it didn't seem to span outward. Instead, it moved into the castle, as though one of the wards protecting it had shrunk massively.

Finally, with a loud _crack_, Dumbledore reappeared with Harry. Hermione sighed in relief at that and took a step forward, then stopped in shock when she beheld the scene.

Kneeling in front of the head table, Dumbledore was bent over a deathly-still Harry, head placed onto his chest and sobs wracking his form. Hermione's brain stopped momentarily as she looked on, watching as many of the teachers immediately ran around the table and stood around the pair, looking at Harry's form in either shock or sadness. Professor Snape was the most surprising, as he was looking down at Harry with wide eyes, his mouth repeating a single word.

A strangled scream erupted from Hermione's mouth as she finally understood what was happening, and she ran as fast as her legs could carry her towards the sight. Surprisingly, Luna beat her to Harry, running like a woman possessed and kneeling by Harry's head while sobbing uncontrollably. As she approached the group, she was barely able to distinguish what the blonde girl was saying.

"You stupid man! Why?! Why did you do this?! I thought you… I thought we… Why?!"

That was all the girl could say before she broke down into uncontrollable crying, an action that was rapidly mirrored by Hermione, Ginny, and Neville as the approached Harry's body as well.

"Harry! Harry, wake up! Come on!"

"Don't leave us, Harry, please!"

"Why? Why did you do that?"

The last cry was Hermione's, but despite feeling absolutely devastated at Harry's suicide, the one part of her that was always rational was yelling at her for abandoning him, for leaving him alone, all while knowing that he was going through such a troubling time. She couldn't do a damn thing to shut it up, so while she was crying over Harry's body, she was also berating herself for her stupidity.

Surprisingly, Ron also came up to Harry, his steps slow and deliberate. A shocked mask was on his face as he beheld the dead man.

"Oh god… why… damnit, I should've… I should've been there… I should've helped him…"

Ginny, understanding his distress, turned and grabbed him into a hug, whispering small comforts into his ear. Ron simply stared at the body of Harry over his sister's shoulder as tears fell from his eyes.

The entire Great Hall had gone quiet in sombre sadness. Nobody dared to utter a peep, but there were many wet eyes in the hall. The quidditch team players of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and even some of Slytherin's quidditch team were openly crying for the young man, as were many of Harry's classmates. Katie, being the only Gryffindor quidditch player left that had been there since Harry had started, was simply staring numbly at Harry's body, unwilling to believe what she was seeing. Colin Creevey, always having been a great fan of Harry, was sobbing uncontrollably with his face pressed against the table in front of him, while his brother Dennis was trying to comfort him. The members of the disbanded DA, having come to know Harry for the brave, yet quiet, young man that he was, were unabashedly crying as well.

Eventually, the tears of the group ran dry, and the first to stand from the group was Dumbledore himself, who seemed to have undergone a massive transformation. Gone was the usual grandfatherly persona, and in its place was the face and demeanour of a man who had seen more deaths than should have been necessary. He gazed over the silent Great Hall with a thunderous look, cowing many who stared back, and when he finally talked, his voice had a deadly quiet to it, yet still carried effortlessly across the Hall.

"Never in my long years as a Hogwarts instructor and headmaster have I ever been this… _disgusted_… yes, I think that's the right word… disgusted with a student body as much as I am now. Through your actions, a poor, innocent boy is now lying dead in this very hall, an event that I and all of my colleagues hoped would never happen. I know that many of you considered yourselves a friend of Mr… of Harry… but, through your _inactions_, the young man was forced to take on events and weights that even the most seasoned Auror would crumble under. He bore them dutifully, with nary a complaint… And it soon became too much."

The simple speech had a profound effect on the crowd of students, as they caused the boys and girls who once claimed to be friendly with Harry to have a good long look at themselves.

Dumbledore was about to say more, but a shriek from behind him caught his attention. Turning around quickly, he was startled to see a bright light rising from Harry for a moment before it solidified into a ghostly image…

… of the very same young man.


End file.
